It’s only for a-nother-year. Yes, the best laid plans get shifted, changed, reworked, and continue to be made to measure. I am quickly approaching the end of our first year, a time when a few great women convinced me to start this blog. And of course, the title came from my mind-set at the time; one year at a time.
But instead of unpacking and getting ready for school here, we are packing once again and heading back to the beach. MIxed feelings invade my head and my heart, but there is an understanding that for now, the choice is clear. The truth is, our options for schools here became too limited and inappropriate for what each of my boys needed. I know this to be true by the visceral reaction I had driving by their old prep school the other day. I pulled up outside and instead of happy memories flooding my mind, it was a bit of guilt coupled with regret for the lack of understanding I had in playing this system. It’s not a bad school, far from it, it was just the wrong school mixed with gross confusion on when and how to move to the next school. They encourage a family to stay to the final year regardless of whether it may not be in the best interest of the student which can be quite shameful. After eight years, I remain unsettled on my, our, choices, but my saving grace will be it was never due to lack of trying.
We have two more days left on our summer time in London and my love affair with this house, this life, my friendships has deepened. As a family, living here just works. I spoke to Husband a few days ago and the chasm between our lives was getting deeper. The boys and I were chilled out and loving being careless whilst he was stressed and lonely. Not good. I was trying not to sound so happy, which is a strange thing to say, as I felt upset for him and he needed to know he was missed. And he was, so he came. Yep, he arrived for our last week here and when we picked him up en-masse at the airport, I have never seen a bigger smile. At the end of the day, we survive a few weeks without each other and then a breaking point is hit, and one of us needs to travel. And although I loved turning off the light at night at my discretion instead of wearing an eye patch, relished in stretching out sideways and having full use of the bed to myself and looked forward to not getting woken up twenty-five times a night by sudden movements…I was much more complete with him by my side.
And…he was now my babysitter!! I have a trip to Tuscany planned where I meet my mom who’s already there and we stay at Castiglion del Bosco – a six star Borgo on the top of a Tuscan hillside, taking part in cooking classes and wine tasting and lots of eating.
Ciao for now.
P.S. Solemn thoughts…
A decade ago my dad died. Ten years. I find it incredibly sorrowful when I think about how much he’s missed. The marriage of one of his daughters, the birth of five more grandchildren, two bar mitzvahs so far, the world developing with social media connecting us internationally. He would have loved to Skype his cousins in Toronto! When I think of my dad, I almost have to elevate my game as he was a great intellectual, a word merchant, and he would read this blog looking for insight and lack of verbiage. Lord knows I’m forever making up words as I write, challenging the computer’s scribbly lines underneath, but I hope he would have enjoyed the tone and had pleasure in the thoughts.